


just wanna be closer as the night gets colder

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, Blow Jobs, Christmas Eve, Costumes, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <em>“I’m glad you liked the idea, though,” Louis says, picking the winter-y designed cup between two sweater paws and bringing it up to blow on it gently. Harry tries to ignore how it’s his sweater covering Louis’ fingers and slipping down his left shoulder, showing off his sunny skin. “I wanted to wear one.”</em><br/></p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <em>“You want to? So you’re only doing it for yourself,” Harry says exasperatedly. Louis smiles, shrugging nonchalantly.</em><br/></p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <em>“You’ll have to round it up by wearing a Rudolph outfit, H.”</em><br/></p>
</div> <div class="center">
  <p>Uni!AU. Harry's eighteen, Louis' twenty, they're together and they're spending their first Christmas together in Harry's apartment with a pink nurse and Rudolph.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	just wanna be closer as the night gets colder

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by chapters 11-12 of [My Girlfriend's A Geek](http://www.yenpress.com/my-girlfriends-a-geek-manga/). Title from Take Me Home by Midnight Red.
> 
> this is beyond ridiculous im sososossso sorry i hope it's like sorta enjoyable tho????

*

“A mini-skirt Santa would be pretty neat, huh?”

“...Huh?”

Harry’s standing in the open kitchen, two mugs in front of him on the countertop. He looks over his shoulder at Louis, who’s sitting beside the coffee table in the living room, peeling an orange and looking wildly pleased with himself.

“What’s this, all of a sudden?” he asks as Louis nibbles on a slice of orange.

He huffs, swallowing it down and looking from the television to Harry with wicked, sparkling eyes. “So I meeeaaan, the world’s totally engrossed in Christmas fever right now, y’know?”

“Right.”

“So I’m asking, what if, On Christmas eve, I wore a miniskirt Santa outfit? Wouldn't that be hot?”

Harry’s cheeks flush down to his neck, and he grabs the mugs before scuttling out and into the living room, sitting directly in front of Louis at the coffee table. “Yes. Very hot. I’m burning up just thinking about it.”

“Very well!” Louis says, drawing his mug close to him and sticking up his pointer finger. “I will undertake this task for your sake, babe.”

“Oh.” Harry grins dopily, ducking his head down and running his fingers through it.

“I’m glad you liked the idea, though,” Louis says, picking the winter-y designed cup between two sweater paws and bringing it up to blow on it gently. Harry tries to ignore how it’s his sweater covering Louis’ fingers and slipping down his left shoulder, showing off his sunny skin. “I wanted to wear one.”

“You want to? So you’re only doing it for yourself,” Harry says exasperatedly. Louis smiles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You’ll have to round it up by wearing a Rudolph outfit, H.”

“Sure. Who ‘m I to deny a request from a miniskirted Santa?” As he says it, the thought of himself in a large, itchy costume complete with a bright red nose flashes through his mind.

“On second thought, I’ll pass,” he says meekly, wrapping his arms around himself. His sweater is thick, but he still feels cold. It might be the look Louis’ giving him now.

“Boo. That would have been such a great photo to send to everyone.”

“Why would you subject me to that public disgrace? What are you thinking sometimes?”

“What am I thinking?” Louis asks slowly, placing his cup on the table before peering up at Harry through his lashes, “ten ways to enjoy our first Christmas together?”

He gives harry the most heartbreakingly innocent look. Harry knows it’s a lie, but he looks down. It is their first Christmas. “Ah.” It’s a good point. It’s a special day that only comes around once a year.

“Plus, ten ways to drag you down rotten row before New Year’s Eve,” Louis says, voice giddy, eyes narrow and evil. Harry leans back a bit in terror.

“I’m not going,” Harry says simply, once he deems he’s a safe distance away from Louis.

The New Year’s event is something they’ve been bickering about a few months before December. It’s a party thrown by Louis’ bored-looking friend Zayn and Zayn’s slightly crazy girlfriend, Perrie. Harry just wants to stay at the flat with Louis, but Louis wants to drag him to the party because it’s _tradition_. At the beginning, Harry had another excuse he could use, that his own friend’s Liam, Niall and co. are throwing their own party but then Jade had told him they were all going to Zayn’s, which ultimately sealed Harry’s fate. Louis was extremely pleased about that. Harry’s sure Louis was born out of evil, or something.

“If you’re not going, I’m not gonna wear the mini-skirt Santa outfit,” Louis pouts, pushing at Harry’s thigh underneath the table with his toes.

“That’s fine by me.”

“You can’t say that! I _want_ to wear it.”

Harry looks over the brim of his own mug at Louis, eyebrows furrowed. “Babe, you’re getting your ends and means confused. Look, that costume is something you can only enjoy at this time of year. If you think you can string me along with something entirely temporary, you’re wrong.”

Louis’ quiet for a bit, until he quietly asks, “What about a pink nurse?”

Harry sighs. “Look, it’s not the costume that’s the proble-”

“What about your favourite? The pink nurse.” Louis purses his lips together and looks at Harry expectantly. Harry grits his teeth, because of course Louis could find out he had a thing for pink nurses. His mind pauses on that thought.

“Wait. How did you know I like pink nurses...?”

Louis leans his cheek on his hand, chuckling quietly. Harry’s heart beat picks up tenfold.

“Your computer-” Harry jolts at that, “in your secret folder-”

“ _Wait_ a minute-” he can see stars now. Louis found his _stash_ _;_ he saw it all.

“To think, you’ve already got a boyfriend in me,” Louis sighs. Harry blushes. “Pink nurses, huh?”

Harry leans back, fanning himself a bit. He suddenly feels too hot.

“Well? What’s it going to be?” Louis asks, grinning at him.

“Huh?” He still doesn't want to go to the party. “Um, I- I’ll think about it.”

“Make up your mind!” Louis yells, slamming a palm onto the table. “Be a man!”

“Um-”

“Are you gonna buy the nurse outfit? Or are you not gonna buy the nurse outfit?” Louis’ up in his face now, cheeks flushed pink, lips in a pout. Harry furrows his brows.

“Huh? I thought- um.”

“Jeez, he’s clamming up. I guess I have no choice.”

“About what? Harry asks in horror. Louis leans back, smirking.

“I’ll go ahead and buy some cat ears to go along with it,” he says, bringing his hands up in little fists and pawing at the air. “Meow’s that? A pink nurse with cat ears!”

Harry’s heart nearly stops.

“Pink nurse! Kitten nurse!”

“N-no,” Harry gasps, face burning again. He clamps his hands over his ears, praying his resolve will last him.

“Pink, mini-skirted, kitty-eared nuuuuurse!”

Harry can physically feel his reason slip out the balcony doors as he surrenders, shifting when he feels his prick throbbing between his legs. Louis looks smug, leaning back and flipping his bangs out of his eyes.

“You won't regret it,” he says, patting Harry’s hand.

*

For the rest of the week up till Christmas break, Harry walks around campus with a pink dress and a kitten-eared headband in his mind. Liam tells him he looks a bit dazed and should sit down. Niall tells him he looks fucked-out.

He tells them both that it’s their faults he looks how he does right now, because really, when he traces the problem to the source, it is all their faults for becoming chummy with Zayn (when it happened, he does not know) thus giving him no reason to stay home on New Years.

Liam doesn't understand it, but pats him on the back sympathetically anyways. Niall smacks his forehead.

“Always talkin’ shit, ye,” he grumbles, storming away. Liam looks back at Harry, who’s busy rubbing his forehead dazedly.

*

Naturally, Christmas Eve comes quicker than Harry wants it to.

“Meowrry Christmews!”

Harry stumbles back into the kitchen of his flat, taking Louis in. “You’re throwing in cat puns now?”

“Just a little fanservice.” He grins, bringing his hands up, folded into little paws and swiping at the air. “Meow.”

He’s got on a pink nurse dress that looks like it was bought from a Halloween costume shop, soft looking cat ears and black Converse. It should look dumb but it looks hot. The ever-growing lump in Harry’s sweatpants would back it up.

“C’mon back here!” Louis yells, and he bites his lip, swipes his forehead and walks into the living room with his Christmas cake. There are plates and glasses on the coffee table, along with a bottle of liquor.

“Jesus,” he says, flustered. He shakes his head so his fringe flops to the side of his face. “Isn’t that skirt a bit short? I can kinda see stuff. Like what’s underneath, and the limits of my own control, and the truth of the universe.”

“Oh.” The older boy looks down, patting his thighs. “Y’see, the one I bought was too long, so I had Eleanor hem it up for me.”Louis turns around quickly, and Harry notices something he did not notice before. “She even stuck on a tail!”

“She does good work,” Harry admires, leaning back against the couch to slip onto the floor. Louis watches him, before sitting down in front of him and stretching his legs out.

“She does. Now bathe in the glory of my finely shaped thighs.”

Harry does; eyes widening as he skims down their expanse to the tips of Louis’ shoes. “Jesus, you’re like- a goddess.”

“I know where you got that line from,” Louis hums, hitching a leg up. Harry’s mouth dries.

“Sorry, that outfit’s so revealing I can’t focus on enjoying my Christmas cake.”

“Eww, pervy Harry. But we’re A-Okay on that front.” He places a dainty hand on the table before getting up onto his knees and grabbing the hem of the dress to lift it. “Look! Deploying A.T. field!”

Harry gets an eyeful of the tight blue shorts under the dress before letting his head drop back onto the couch. “ _Lou_ _-_ ”

“Ha!” He looks down. “Did you want knickers? But these will help me block the glances of horny little boys.” He reaches a lithe hand out and flicks Harry’s forehead. “A barrier against enemy attacks.”

Harry chucklesquietly, tucking a finger under the collar of his shirt and letting his gaze skim down to Louis’ thighs. “So I’m an enemy, and my gaze is an attack?”

Louis flicks him again. “I knew you were a horny little boy, but I didn't know you’d dislike them. Do you want me t’take them off?”

“No!” harry screams, because truthfully, he loves those shorts. It’s a waste to take them off.

Louis gives him a confused look.

He coughs into his fist, flustered. “I mean, um. Please stay fully clothed for now.”

Louis rolls his eyes before leaning over the table to grab the plates and cutlery. As he cuts the cake and pours the alcohol, Harry stares wistfully at his bent-over form.

The night is far from over.

He straightens up and fluffs his bangs again with the tips of his fingers when Louis pushes a plate out for him, heavy with a fat slice of white cake. “Eat up, love. The night is young.” The statement makes Harry cram a large forkful into his mouth.

They clink their plastic cups together and Harry forgets to sip as Louis tips his own back and swallows some down, the delicate skin of his throat working over what he drank. The same delicate skin he sinks his teeth into as he quickly strokes Louis’ heavy cock in his hand, swiping over the slit with his thumb so Louis grips the length of his shoulder tight and cries out as he spills over his fist-

He waves himself off frantically. Getting a little x-rated.

When he looks up, Louis’ staring at his empty cup with a confused look on his face, nose scrunched up, eyes narrowed. He studies the cup a bit more, twirling it in his little palm before snapping his attention to Harry, who jolts.

“H, what’s this? It tastes so good.”

Harry grabs the bottle and skims his eyes over the label. “Oh, it’s the alcoholic version of that drink we had at the grill last week. You liked that a lot, right? Thought you might like this.” He grins proudly like the champion boyfriend he is.

“I did like that one, and I quite like this one.” He thrusts his hand out and waggles the cup. “More, please.”

Harry spills more into his cup without a second thought and places the bottle beside himself on the table. Louis quickly swallows it down in what seems like two takes before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “More?”

Harry frowns, placing his fork on his plate. “Lou, take a breather.”

“This is my second cup, Harry. I’m not going to become an alcoholic.” He waggles the cup again and pouts. Harry sighs and relents.

*

Louis gets drunk easily, and Harry should’ve remembered that.

“Harry,” he hiccups. His eyes are bright, opaque cobalt and his cheeks are tinged in pink. His lips are red. The shorts he was wearing are disposed beside the left leg of the coffee table, and he has red lipstick on his bottom lip and cheeks. “Harry. It’s holy day dress up time.” He sticks a finger in Harry’s gaping mouth.

“Lou- fuck.” He grabs Louis’ wrist and pulls his finger out, which makes Louis giggle. “What’re you talking about?”

“Your present.” Louis perks up and hiccups again before getting on his knees and crawling over to  the television stand, where his backpack is leaning. He plops in front of it, sitting crisscross, making the dress stretch around his body. “Dress up.”

Harry makes a horrified noise. “Dress up?”

“I know you’ve been dying for your chance to dress up.”

“I don't have even a micron of interest-

“Don't worry!” Louis claps his hands on his own cheeks and grins dreamily. “My present to you is a suit. You’ll look _so_ good!”

Harry’s a little terrified at how ecstatic Louis seems. “Alright?”

Louis slaps a big, flat, square box on his lap, before taking another swallow of his drink. Harry carefully pries the cup out of his trembling hand when he’s done, and he puffs up his cheeks. Strangely adorable.

He sighs fondly before carefully lifting the top of the box and peering inside and- shutting it closed.

“Louis, I said i don't want to dress up as Ruldoph.”

“But I dressed up!” Louis crows, before pushing Harry flat-backed against the couch. “You _hafta_.”

“Louis-” Harry tries, but Louis keeps clambering up on him and lifting the bottom of his shirt. “You didn't even dress up as a mini-skirt Santa, though.”

“Who cares?” Louis huffs, and he straddles Harry’s hips, leaning down close. In his struggle to get Harry’s shirt off, which he succeeds in a moment later, he grinds down onto Harry once. Harry gasps at the feeling, his nerves on-edge and toes tingly. Louis pauses, and Harry clamps his mouth shut.

“Is your little Rudolph happy?” Louis slurs, looking down at Harry with unimpressed eyes as he grinds down again. Harry doesn't know how to respond, but it’s alright, because a moan comes bubbling out his throat quickly.

“Seems,” he whispers hoarsely, and Louis crawls off him, getting in between his legs and tugging off his soft pyjama bottoms.

“It looks it,” he says, eyes wide as they stare at the impressive mound underneath Harry’s snowflake-printed boxers. Harry gives him a smile. A very off-kilter, embarrassed smile.

Louis purses his messy lips before ducking down and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the mound in his boxers. Harry can feel himself twitching under his lips, and when Louis draws back, there’s a faint red circle on his underwear.

Louis studies him for a bit, hiccuping before tugging his briefs down to join his sweats. Harry’s prick slaps against his hard lower torso, the cool air hitting it and his back arches lightly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. When his eyes flicker up, Louis’ staring at it hungrily.

“‘m gonna suck you,” Louis mumbles, crawling back forward. That has Harry gasping a bit, hips pushing up until Louis pins them down with his palms and wraps his mouth around the tip of Harry’s cock.

“Fu-” Harry breathes, hands dropping from where they’re nearly tearing up the couch to the crown of Louis’ head, fisting his soft, wispy hair between his fingers lightly. Louis’ eyes look up at him once before fluttering (fucking _fluttering_ ) to a shut, lashes casting over the upper cut of his cheekbones. His lips tighten their suction and he sucks hard, like he’s coaxing precome out, which he does, before opening his mouth and taking Harry in halfway.

He licks up the underside, tongue hot against the throbs, throat working furiously as he begins to suck. His cheeks puff out with the weight of Harry’s cock, and Harry lets one hand drop from his hair to press his thumb against the hollow of his cheek, pushing in and feeling himself. Louis bobs his head once, and a slew of saliva trickles out the corners of his mouth and down the length of Harry’s cock or his jaw and over his neck.

He sticks his tongue out and lets more spit slide down Harry’s cock before bobbing his head back down, pressing his lips tight and sucking hard. He lifts a hand from harry’s hip and brings it to his base, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around it before adding his middle. Harry watches as he opens his mouth around him, sucks in a breath of air before pushing his head lower, lower until his sensitive cockhead slides over the dip of his tongue and to where he gags furiously, cheeks flushing red. He doesn't move for a moment, and Harry takes the time to renew the air that’s trapped in his lungs, before Louis slowly draws off him with a slick pop and a sloppy, shiny line of spit connecting his raw lips to the tip of Harry’s prick.

The younger boy watches him bring a hand up and brush his sweaty fringe out of his face before sucking three fingers into his mouth, eyes closed before they open and stare at Harry. They’re opaque blue, blown out with a small ring of black around them. His lashes frame them in a deceivingly innocent way as his cheeks hollow out while he sucks on his fingers for probably no other reason than to drive Harry positively mad.

After a moment, he draws his slick fingers out of his mouth and ducks down again, taking the tip of Harry’s prick in between his lips again. His eyes stay trained on Harry’s as he trails his wet hand down his own back and under the dress, to his arse and-

And Harry can’t see it from where he is, can’t see how Louis’ fucking his fingers inside himself while he sucks Harry down far until his nose is pressed to the dark hair at the base, eyes watering thinly before they finally shut and Harry sucks in a breath because dear God, he wouldn't have been able to take all three actions together.

Louis begins to bob his head up and down, and his mouth is making slick, awfully unsexy noises that has Harry thickening on his tongue. He takes a deep breath, fisting Louis’ hair again before whispering, voice broken “could- Lou, babe, arse up-”

Louis takes Harry in again, gagging noise quiet before arching his back, head low and arse higher. He can see Louis’ wrist working, skin and veins moving as he shoves two fingers inside his hole, fucking them in and out quickly.

Harry can feel his orgasm pool in his stomach now, can feel his thighs clench and his lower body tighten, and he slowly, softly strokes the hair behind Louis’ ear, whispers “c’mon, babe, y’doing so well-”

Louis pops off again, and his mouth is an absolutely filthy, erotic mess, Harry’s cock is shiny and lipstick-smeared under his chin. “‘course ‘m doing good, H. I’m the nurse, seeing if your body’s alright, y’know-”

“And I thought I was lame,” Harry mutters, dropping a hand from Louis’ hair. The older boy’s eyes follow it as he grips himself by the base, holding his prick and leading it back between Louis’ lips. Louis sucks at the tip before harry pulls it back, and he whines, body wracking a shiver as his fingers stutter before resuming back into the old, quick pace. Harry wishes he could see.

He bites his lip in concentration as he dabs two wet spots onto Louis’ pink cheeks before leading himself into the wet heat of Louis’ mouth halfway, and Louis’ eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows furrowing as he sucks him off hard, tongue working over the pulsing underside until Harry’s eyes snap wide open and he tugs Louis’ hair hard as a last-ditch attempt to warn him that he’s coming.

He comes in his mouth, and Louis’ eyes open halfway, eyebrows lifting as his throat works over the load, fingers moving in himself desperately to get off as well. He pulls back before Harry’s done, panting hard, swallowing even as most of it slips out the corner of his lips and over his chin.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, sinking back into the front of the couch, utterly boneless. Louis paints the picture of utterly debauched; eyes and lashes wet, tears and spit over his cheeks, Harry’s release over his chin and neck. His hair is sticking up oddly from where his hands had been grabbing at it, and there’s lipstick everywhere. Harry doesn't even know where it came from to start with.

He notices a second later that he’s still got his fingers in his arse, thighs shaking with the exertion of keeping himself up. Harry reaches out for him and helps him into his lap, cooing softly.

“S’alright,” he mutters, before pressing two fingers to Louis’ bruised lips. He takes them in and sucks on them just as obscenely as before, and Harry draws them out a moment later before reaching around Louis’ waist. He pulls the dress up higher until it’s bunching around Louis’ waist, pressing his fingers to his rim beside Louis’ own fingers and pushes one in, causing him to arch forward.

Harry sinks his teeth into the curve of his neck, other hand reaching forward blindly to unzip the front of the nurse costume and reaching inside to grip Louis’ cock, hand dry. He curses into Louis’ skin, still pushing his fingers into him as Louis does with his own, panting feverishly.

Harry thumbs at Louis’ slit and gathers the precome there, pulling it down to make the dry pull better. He fucks his fingers into him, stretching them out and hooking them around at the same pace he jerks Louis off until Louis’ thighs are shaking and he’s coming over his tight fist,  a little splattering over the dress and Harry’s bare chest with a little cry of Harry’s name.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters as Louis slumps into him, dead weight. Louis giggles again, like it’s funny, and when he thinks about it for a moment, it sort of is. It’s funny and lovely.

“I love you,” Harry says, tilting his head up to catch Louis’ mouth and kiss it softly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah,” Louis says, kissing him back before pulling away. His eyes are shining with mirth and something Harry will self-declare happiness. “Also, H?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re buying the costume next year.”


End file.
